Month: June 2018

Aidee is giving away a $5 Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her backlist. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Don’t forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

About Wolf Around the Corner:

Frank’s family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart.Settled in the small town of Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if Tom is only acting.Tom ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast. Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed.Wolf Around The Corner, a paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold!

The first thing he always did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him, his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any longer. He sprang into the woods.Frank ran, crashing through the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood.His paws skidded on a pile of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor.Dry twigs snapped beneath his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and fungi cradling him as he panted.As he caught his breath, the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And the still of twilight calmed him.When he’d rested enough that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain.But his clothes weren’t there.The sky darkened into night.Frank knew Mrs. Anderson was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs.Or he could stay in wolf form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog.Or wait, a third option. There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human and sprinted across the yard.He leaped for the lower boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on the side that faced the apartment house.Frank balanced upright, his arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself. The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window.Using the taller branch as a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more.An ominous crack sounded beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it.Frank jumped. And missed the house, falling into the azalea bushes.Just as his hunky new neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the front steps.Frank had seen Tom in the hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank wished had happened. What went down was:“Need help?” Frank barely got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze. God, the man was gorgeous.“Naw, man. I got it.” Tom shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.”Frank wiped a clammy hand on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot.Tom tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this time of year.”Frank didn’t dare correct him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse.“Okay, well then, see you around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment.Meanwhile Frank beat it down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran over the exchange fail again and again.So yeah. That was the less than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes.“Are you okay?” The gleam from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet.Too bad Frank was a naked man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract Tom from looking at his hairy backside.“I’m fine.”“Are you sure?” Tom leaned closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?”Frank racked his brain for some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.”“Oh my God. Did you fall from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?”Frank sighed. This conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank rose from behind the bushes.“I’m okay. Just need to get back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security door.”Tom’s eyes widened when Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out.“Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods.Frank took the stairs two at a time to escape.After a shower and shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and approachable. He could do this. He had game.“Hey, I know you don’t know many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a loser.“Yo, you want to watch football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports?“I ordered two large pizzas by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni for a week.”Lame. Frank’s own gaunt features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse.Galen’s syndrome was rare, only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree. Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology.All Frank knew was the recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children.It had gutted him. They turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid, lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family. So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult things he still hadn’t figured out.Like how to ask out a guy who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side.But on the plus side, small towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He should take his clothes with him

If your looking for a great summer read I recommend a Duffy Brown book. Geared For The Grave is a story about Evie Bloomfield. Evie is sent to Mackinac Island to help her boss’s father Rudy in his failing bike shop. Soon after Evie’s arrival to the Island Thing begin to turn south. Evie soon finds herself straight in the middle of a murder investigation and possibly a victim if she’s not careful.

This is a great book set in a cute town with a list of characters that make this a fun read. The book keeps you on your toes and it’s also got a possible attraction between a few characters to make it a bit of a romantic cozy mystery.

I am pleased to say I have book two. BREAKING FOR BODIES in my hand and will continue my summer reading with more Duffy Brown.

Bold and brash, Eva MacAteer has spent her life working in her blue-collar family’s construction business. In doing so, she’s had to fight for her own place away from her overbearing father, as well as for her own identity as a woman. Struggling between her loyalty to her brothers and her desire to strike out to be her own person, Eva knows one thing for certain: getting involved with a womanizer, no matter how hot he may be, is not the path for her.

Stud is not one to be tied down to any woman. Fiercely loyal to the club and his single ways, the last thing he expects is to become fascinated by the fiery Eva. He sees his own life reflected in hers and is not quite sure how to handle the connection.

Can two mismatched people find enough common ground to overcome their fears and allow love to grow?

I’ve had stories in my head since I was a child. All sorts of stories of fantasy, romance, mystery and anything else that captured my interest. I’m a voracious reader, and have spent many hours in my life devouring books, therefore it’s only fitting I should write a few myself!

I’ve spent most of my life as a performing musician and band instrument repair technician, but that doesn’t mean I’m pigeon-holed into one mold. I’ve been a university professor, belly dancer, craftsperson, soap maker, singer, rock band artist, jewelry maker, lifeguard, swim coach, and whatever else I feel like exploring. As one of my students said to me once, “Life’s too short to ignore the opportunities.” I have no intention of ever stopping so welcome to my story world. I hope you enjoy it!

Tormented rock star Liam O’Reilly left Dublin and achieved success, hoping to build a new life, free from the demons of his past. Now that seems he’s got everything he ever wanted, why isn’t he happy? Is it because he’s realized that the most important thing in his life is the promise that he never kept?

Sensitive and damaged Rain O’Donovan lives with her brother and his friends in a tiny seaside town north of Dublin. Once a popular and lively schoolteacher, a car accident has wrecked her life, so that her only pleasure is walking in the rain, and her world revolves around mundane tasks, devoid of hope for the future. The amnesia around the time of the accident that changed everything means that her struggle with life is a day-to-day torture, and, more than anything else, she longs for answers.

When Liam returns to his hometown after his two-year absence, he’s determined to try to make amends for the terrible mistakes he made. But is it too late to put things right?

Rainy Days is a complete standalone and a part of the Four Days Series.

Patrick Doyle is a rude, selfish and cynical man, but for his friends and family, he’d do anything. His dream of pursuing music came to an abrupt halt after a car accident involving those he loves most in the world after which he dedicated himself to working full time in the pub he manages with his childhood buddies, keeping his distance from love or any other kind of bind.

Erin O’Neill is a bright young woman with her future well planned: she’s about to graduate, she’s got a part-time job in Patrick’s pub and the perfect boyfriend until the unexpected happens, upsetting her life and turning all her well-laid plans upside down, leaving her alone and desperate.

Patrick isn’t the kind of guy to get caught up in other people’s problems, especially if it involves a damsel in distress, but he can’t help coming to her aid and finds himself catapulted into her life against his will—even if he would like to maybe be part of that life—even if that means getting hurt, and hurting her too. Because Patrick destroys everything he touches.

Sweet Days is a complete standalone and a part of the Four Days Series

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2MwnIBC

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2HSK8cG

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2ym87kK

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2LRl1cD

And then the door slams open.
And he’s here.
He’s worried, and scared and desperate.
He’s absolutely perfect.
He looks at me and in a heartbeat all the pieces come back together and I can breathe again, as if he were the air passing through my lungs.
“I … I’m sorry,” he yells, trying to drown out the sound of the hail.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I yell back.
He takes a step forward.
“It is. I allowed all of this to happen. I established a reputation that meant that trashy girls like that would come here looking for me. I made it so that everyone believed that I am the dickhead that I really am. That you would think it too.”
“And you are,” I say, moving my wet hair from my eyes.
“I am.” He smiles bitterly. “But I don’t want to be like that any more.”
“No?” I ask with a pained voice and a bit of hope brushing up against my heart.
“No I don’t. But I’ll need your help,” he says, taking another step closer to me. “I need you to help me to be a better person.”
“M-me? Why me?”
Another step closer and his forehead is touching mine. It caresses my face and I close my eyes to let his touch imprint itself in my mind.
“Because with you, Erin, I feel I can be … different. I can be myself. I feel that I can finally be a man.”

A. S. Kelly was born in Italy but lives in Ireland with her husband, two children and a cat named Oscar.

She’s passionate about English literature, she’s a music lover and addicted to coffee. She spends her days in a small village North of Dublin, looking for inspiration for her next stories.

Dana is giving away a $25 Amazon or B&N GC and a Dana Marton Tote Bag. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Don’t forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

About Threat of Danger:

Falling in love can be a deadly proposition in this pulse-quickening Mission Recovery novel from the New York Times bestselling author.Jess Taylor and Derek Daley were in the throes of first love in a small Vermont town when they were kidnapped by a serial killer. They escaped his clutches—but not the trauma of the unsolved crime. With their lives changed forever and their romance cut short, they went their separate ways to exorcise their fears.Jess is living on the edge as Hollywood’s hottest stuntwoman. It’s no longer terror thrumming through her veins. It’s adrenaline. Derek is a former Navy SEAL spinning his ordeals into heart-pounding bestselling thrillers. But when Jess is called home on a family emergency, she must face the past—and face the man she left behind, who is just as haunted and, like her, still so much in love.Now, as an old flame reignites, Jess and Derek are taking advantage of second chances and putting their bad memories behind them. But here, in the quiet town of Taylorville, a killer is getting a second chance as well.

Excerpt:Common sense said to walk away. She’d worked hard to make a life for herself in LA that worked for her.

Screw common sense. He stepped forward and reached around her, looped his fingers around her slim wrists, and tugged her hands from her pockets. Then he took those hands and drew her closer to him.

“Derek . . .”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever come back.”

“I’m only back temporarily.”

“Is that how you left things with Eliot?” That she’d be going after him soon? His mouth tightened at the thought.

“He had to go. He had meetings scheduled with directors. And new equipment coming in that he has to test and make decisions on before the next shoot.”

When she talked about Eliot, she talked about the business. That gave Derek hope. Sounded like they’d parted as friends and colleagues, not as lovers who couldn’t wait to reunite.

Two and a half weeks left, at the most. He knew her shooting schedule from talking with Zelda. About eighteen days more before Jess had to report to the set. So why in hell was he wasting time?

He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. He’d gotten lost once in the Iraqi desert for three days. He hadn’t been as thirsty for water back then as he was now for a taste of Jess.

When she didn’t protest, he pulled her fully into his arms and kissed her.

The point of no return. He needed to find out if things could still work between them. He wanted her, and he could no longer pretend that he didn’t.

Her body was firm, but her lips were soft and silky, as sweet as Zelda’s prizewinning angel food cake. As sweet as the old Jess. Except, this new Jess, she was a woman. She had the power to bring Derek to his knees.

He’d told her that he would give her whatever she needed from him. He hoped she’d figure out that he was what she needed. He was going to have to help her reach that conclusion.

He breathed her in. She smelled like redemption. Like maybe he could have a do-over and get it right this time.

She stood still in the circle of his arms. Undecided. Wary.

Better than a sharp knee in the balls, but Derek wanted more. He nibbled her lips and licked the seam, tasting her.

She tasted like a whole new world opening up. She tasted like the blank page of a book before he’d written the first word, the possibilities limitless.

Was the story of his life written on her heart? Was the story of her life written on his?

Too early to tell. But he wanted to find out. Letter by letter, word by word, sentence by sentence. If only she’d let him.

She did let him in, let him deepen the kiss. Progress, but this was just the opening of her lips, not the opening of her heart. Still, Derek wouldn’t have been a good SEAL if he didn’t grab every advantage, no matter how small. And, really, the kiss could not be called small by any measure.

As he swept into Jess’s mouth, he felt his boundaries expand. Need rushed in, and filled him like water flooding into a torpedoed submarine. He sank onto the seabed of things he always wanted but never believed he could have. Jess’s forgiveness . . . and more.

All these years, he’d thought her forgiveness was all he wanted.

He’d been stupid.

He wanted this. Jess. And he knew in that moment that he was going to do whatever it took to get her and keep her. Eliot couldn’t have her, no matter how handsome he was, or how much they had in common, or how hot women thought it was that the guy was some grandmaster of stunts.

Derek wasn’t going to let Eliot have Jess. He didn’t care if the guy jumped out of a burning helicopter, tied hand and foot, with a ticking bomb in his backpack, and got an Oscar nomination in every single category for the performance.

If you love heart-pounding romantic suspense, books you can sink your teeth into, you’ll love New York Times bestselling author Dana Marton’s stories. Kirkus Reviews calls her writing “compelling and honest.” RT Book Review Magazine says, “Marton knows what makes a hero…her characters are sure to become reader favorites.” Her writing has been acclaimed by critics, called, “gripping,” “intense and chilling,” “full of action,” “a thrilling adventure,” and wholeheartedly recommended to readers. Dana is the winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, the Readers’ Choice Award, and the RITA Award, the highest industry award for romance.